


Echoes of the Ages Past

by Bazylia_de_Grean



Series: Adra Bán [3]
Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Angst, F/M, Lady Webb (mentioned), guest starring: Iovara; Aloth; Durance; the delemgan sisters; OCs, lots of quality angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-06-21 06:02:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15551232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bazylia_de_Grean/pseuds/Bazylia_de_Grean
Summary: Watcher Eidis’ journey across Dyrwood, memories and regrets. And many of those regrets share one name: Thaos.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Ranna for beta-reading! (Any possible remaining mistakes are my own.)  
> Prompts 51: Regrets.

* * *

 

Eidis curls up, clinging to a ruined wall, trying to ignore the whispers still scratching at her mind’s door. In the gloom, it seems that the bodies which have turned to eerie, fragile ashen statues could move any moment. When she glances at Calisca and Heodan, their mouths, still opened in silent screams of fear, seem ready to speak again, even though their flesh has grown cold.

This place terrifies her, but she is afraid to wander further, because there are shadows – maybe souls? – moving in the dark. She wonders if it would not be safer to face more Glanfathan guardians instead of the unknown. But now, she does not even have enough courage to make a fire, fearing what the flames could draw in.

Her fingers clutch at the piece of adra she found in the ruins. Maybe because it is slightly warm, as adra often becomes in response to touch. Or maybe because it has a faint pulse, like a heartbeat, oddly soothing – and comfort is what she needs right now.

Eidis does not know who this man she saw near the ancient machine was, and why he appeared in her vision only moments later – in a different place, a different… time. She does not remember the questions haunting her back then, but she is certain they were important and that she could no longer live without learning the answers. And now she finds out that maybe it is even more difficult not to know the questions and only to remember overwhelming doubts.

Slowly, she turns the crystal in her hands. Only a faint ray of moonlight reaches her hideout, but it seems the adra is glowing with its own inner fire. Eidis looks at the stone, at its surface, clear and even like calm waters…

And suddenly it feels as if she was falling into adra, drowning in it like in a lake. Down at the very bottom, in the darkness, she can see a pair of eyes watching her, dark like adra and equally deep. She has no idea what the stranger’s eyes look like, because in the shadows beneath the mask they were two empty wells, but she is certain those eyes are his. And even though he left only death in his passing, looking into his eyes now, Eidis can see life.

When at last she falls asleep, exhausted, throughout the whole night she can still hear trembling whispers of the ghostly shapes, and painful groans and last breaths of the companions that died beside her. And then Eidis hears the strange man’s voice, calm and even, and that is what makes her wake up screaming.

* * *

 

Soon she forgets about that dream, because the reality is much worse than nightmares. In Gilded Vale she dreams of the ghastly smile of a dead dwarven animancer, a tree ripe with bodies instead of fruit, a funeral bell tolling at a child’s birth, the spirits of Eothasian priests buried alive in their temple… Life proves more terrifying than any nightmares, and Eidis is not sure if she is more afraid of waking or of sleep, because all the terrible images are mirrored in her dreams.

She is grateful to the gods for blessing her journey with good companionship, at least, the only agreeable thing she found in Gilded Vale. For her mother’s friend and her own old mentor Invar’s warm presence, and for the Glanfathan druid who walks at his side and makes the impression she could be someone’s nightmare if she wanted to. Eidis is thankful for them, but… In a group, it can be difficult to pretend she hears and sees only as much as others.

The whispers accompany her constantly, even more draining because of how intelligible they are – but whenever Eidis strains her ears to understand the words, the voices quieten, only to rise up again a moment later. From time to time, she notices movement in the corner of her eye, as if somebody passed beside her, but when she turns, she sees no one. It makes her wonder how long can she bear it. She is hoping the old Watcher in Caed Nua knows of a cure for this ailment, because it is not possible to live like this.

And then they reach Raedric’s Hold. Eidis knows she will never forget the dead woman lying on the blood-soaked sheets, nor the red stains on the pillows and on the blade of a dagger. Later, at night, she dreams of a bloodied blade, too, and for a moment it seems she is back in Ygrid’s chamber, reliving the nightmare of that poor woman who was killed for seeking hope.

But this blade is different – pale, translucent, as if cut from crystal – yes, it is made of white adra – and in the morning Eidis will guess that she has been dreaming another life, the very same she first glimpsed in Cilant Lîs. Now, she is in that memory, seeing only flickering candlelight and a gleaming blade – just in a glimmer, as if someone did not want her to notice it. The man – her eyes are closed but she knows who is sitting beside her – puts his palm on her ribs, and then there is a flash of pain which is dispelled almost instantly. Eidis reaches for his hands, touches them, feels her own warm blood trickling between their joined fingers. The death tastes bitter, but somewhere deeper there is also a note of satisfaction, relief and… hope?

She lifts her eyelids, to look at the one who took her life. But she does not feel resentment or fear; she is… grateful? Yes, it is gratitude. That, and a distinct feeling that he has truly noticed her for the first time, and that she has finally understood him. His dark eyes are the last thing she sees.

Slowly, darkness envelops her… And suddenly it turns into firelight, greys and silvers of dawn, and Edér’s concerned face leaning over her. Eidis thanks him for waking her, but when he asks about her dreams, hiding worry beneath a layer of humour, she brushes it aside without giving him a real answer. After all, it is perfectly understandable that someone who has witnessed so much death in such a short time, and started seeing and hearing lost souls, is bound to have nightmares. Edér does not ask again, and it is for the best. He has his own worries, and besides, they barely know each other, so why should she put her own burdens onto his shoulders, when he is already carrying enough weight?

Invar does not ask, either. But when he looks at her, concern plain in his gaze, Eidis is certain that somehow, he knows.

* * *

 

As soon as they enter the underground temple, Eidis recognises that she has been here. Had been. She takes a step forward – and is suddenly caught up in another memory, another blurry vision. The half-transparent silhouette facing her is the same mysterious priest she saw in the ruins of Cilant Lîs. His face is angular, a bit too harsh, his burning eyes dark like adra – the very same eyes she has dreamt of.

In her soul, Eidis can hear the echoes of their talk, from many lives ago.

“Are you from Creitum, my dear?” the priest asks softly.

Hearing that name from his lips instantly makes her remember a city, unlike any other she has seen in this life.

That night, she dreams again. Of Creitum.

* * *

 

The evening prayers in the newly-built temple of Eothas have just ended, but the sun has just begun setting, wrapping the whole world in a golden veil of dust and light. Eidis walks down the stairs slowly and stops there for a moment. She closes her eyes, enjoying the warmth and inhaling the scent of pilgrim’s crown that grows around the chapel in abundance.

Through the open door, she can hear that inside the temple, the priests are still talking about the missionaries that were supposed to arrive today, but she is not paying them much attention. She likes the tenets of the Eothasian faith, and every time she speaks the words of the prayers, she can feel hope kindling in her soul, but even though she has thought about it often, she is not ready for priesthood. Not yet. Or maybe she just lacks the courage to leave her life behind and set out into the unknown. The world must be full of wonders, but as eager as she is to see those, she is not brave enough to face the challenges that lie along that path.

She opens her eyes and slowly walks down to where the stairs meet the stone-paved road. There, she leans down to pick a few flowers. The priests do not mind when she does that, and the temple’s elderly gardener, Myghal, always claims that pilgrim’s crown is nothing but a weed – and yet he lets it grow. It is clear why; there could no better ornament for the gardens of an Eothasian chapel. For such a small flower, pilgrim’s crown is surprisingly resilient – and against the green of the grass, its bright petals shine like tiny stars.

Eidis smiles to herself as she stops beside the road and, pulling her braid over her shoulder gently, she weaves the flowers into it. She likes their honey-sweet scent; when she was a child, she was certain that was how the sun smelled.

She is so lost in thoughts – or rather, in sensations: the last brushes of sunlight on her skin, the scent of flowers, the quiet chirping of birds, and how peaceful the world seems – that she notices the wanderers only when they are just a few paces away from her and she can hear their footsteps. There are two of them, both robed like priests; a young, dark-haired elven woman and a human man. It is hard to tell his age – there are faint traces of first wrinkles on his face, but his hair and beard are still dark. Eidis guesses these are the very missionaries she heard about.

The man probably senses she is watching them, because he turns his gaze towards her. His eyes are dark, deep like adra, their colour equally hard to describe.

The elf notices her, too. “Come listen to our sermons tomorrow,” she says enthusiastically, in a friendly tone. “Who knows, maybe you’ll want to stay?” She laughs. “I did.”

The priest just keeps looking at Eidis without a word, focused, as if he was trying to see into her soul. And then he smiles.

* * *

 

By the time she enters the temple, the sermon has already begun. The elven priestess – now in a clean robe and with her hair falling freely down her shoulders – is standing beside the altar, the tall statue of Eothas looking down at her benevolently. She is preaching ardently, her hands constantly in motion. The other priest is sitting on a bench in the front row, among the faithful, listening.

Eidis quietly walks closer to the altar, to hear better, and leans against the wall, hoping she has not disturbed anyone. The priest immediately turns towards her, as if he sensed her presence. He gets up and, with a small move of his palm, invites her to sit. She hesitates, but then the priest nods towards his companion, indicating it will be his turn to speak next, and that finally convinces her.

After a while the elven woman finishes the sermon, and the priest takes her place beside the altar. He begins, talking about the gods and the first revelations, and as he speaks, it seems that his voice slowly fills the entire temple – and the souls of the faithful.

Or maybe only her soul. Eidis is trying to listen, but she cannot focus on the words; she cannot focus on anything but the priest’s deep, adra-like eyes. They are ablaze, and that fire reminds her of the spark kindling inside her every time she prays. The flames burning in his soul reflect in his gaze and illuminate his whole face, and Eidis knows with a sudden certainty that she would follow this man to the end of the world if he only asked.

When the sermon is over, the priest looks straight at her and smiles gently. Later, as the faithful start leaving the temple, he approaches Eidis and sits down beside her.

“The end of the world is a very far place,” he says softly. “Why don’t we start right here, in Creitum?”

And she, speechless and still a little dazed, timidly smiles back at him and nods.


	2. Chapter 2

Her breaths gradually slow down, but her heart is still beating erratically, and it is difficult to gather her thoughts. She is stunned and… happy. She has not felt such happiness in a very long time.

As the sweat evaporates and her skin cools off, she starts getting cold, but then he throws a quilt over them and puts his arms around her, letting her lean against his chest. His body radiates warmth.

When Eidis tilts her head, she notices that her arm smells of adra incense. Like the sheets they are lying on. Like his skin. As if he was to become a part of her forever.

Hot breath brushes across the nape of her neck, followed by lips that burn like coals. Across her neck, right under her ear. His neatly-trimmed beard tickles her shoulder.

“You should get some sleep, my little soulmistress.”

It is hard to imagine she will be able to fall asleep anytime soon. She is too amazed by his proximity, by everything that has just transpired between them… She blushes at the memory.

His hand touches her hip, but immediately returns to her waist. Eidis shifts closer. She is quiet, not knowing what to say and unsure if she should speak at all.

“Thank you,” she whispers at last, timidly.

He laughs in reply, clearly amused. The sound is quiet, low, making something in her abdomen tighten… The feeling is not unpleasant, and no longer entirely unfamiliar.

“Shouldn’t I be the one thanking you?” He immediately notices how she tenses at his words, because they have reminded her of something she would rather forget, and presses a soothing kiss to her shoulder. “You have a brilliant soul,” he murmurs. “I could keep watching it for hours.”

Eidis turns, to look into his eyes. They are extraordinary; dark, piercing, deep like adra. Usually stern, but surprisingly soft now.

“Sleep, my little soulmistress,” he says, stroking her hair. “Tomorrow, I will thank you again,” he adds, leaning in, and kisses her.

* * *

 

Eidis wakes up abruptly, even though the dream was calm. She sits up on the bed and hides her face in her hands. Her cheeks are burning, and her heart is beating wildly.

She knows who the man she has just dreamt of was, because she had heard his voice and seen his soul before. She knows that what she has just experienced was a memory, that it had really happened in one of her lives. That she had… been with him. Had… loved him.

That single memory, so gentle and soft, frightens her much more than all the other scenes from her past. Because the man in her dream whispered to her in Thaos’ voice.

This night Eidis does not have enough courage to fall asleep again. She is lying in the darkness, in a room that is not her own, in a strange bed, trying to forget what she saw in the Sanitarium, in the patients’ broken minds… and in Thaos’ thoughts. So many images, brief as a flash of lightning, strong enough to have burnt traces in her soul. She does not understand what she saw, but some pictures were familiar. Somehow, she knows she had seen that enormous chamber with a tall adra pillar in the middle; the chamber built on the axis of the world. Eidis has no idea where that thought came from – both hers and belonging to that past life – but she can sense it is true.

Fear grips her in its cold fingers as it dawns on her that maybe the Leaden Key’s secrets are greater than anyone can imagine. And Thaos will stop at nothing to keep those mysteries hidden, to reach his goal and see his mission accomplished. She is aware of that now because she saw his journey through other people’s bodies, she saw countless deaths left in his wake…

And yet he stayed his hand. Eidis remembers that moment of stillness – perhaps even of hesitation – that she sensed in his soul when his gaze softened for an instant… As if he recognised her, too. As if he remembered her as well.

Eidis digs into her memory and watches that scene again, trying to recall each detail as only ciphers are able to, and notices something that escaped her attention earlier. For a single heartbeat, Thaos looked at her from someone else’s body with his own eyes.

* * *

 

Eidis wakes, unsure what is going on, surprised to find herself in a room that is not her own, in a strange bed that smells of adra incense and… She blushes as vivid images from last night come back to her. It was different that what she expected after having heard some hints from her cousin talking about her husband and then her lover. It was… Eidis hides her face in her hands, feeling how hot her cheeks are. She can feel the fire burning steadily in her soul, and timidly she smiles at the still-fresh memories.

Slowly, she sits on the bed, pulling the sheets up to her chin.

Thaos is sitting on the floor, deep in prayer or meditation, clad in a dark robe parted in the middle and tied loosely at his waist. His usual clothes are lying in a neat pile on a chair near the fireplace, and Eidis blushes again when she notices that.

Thaos opens his eyes and turns his face towards her. Then, he gets up, and suddenly Eidis is on the verge of panic because she has no idea what to do.

She feels that she should not be here now, that she is disturbing him, that she should leave… But her own robe is on the chair, too, and to put it on, she would have to get up, and the very thought paralyses her. At night… things were different. At night, Thaos was simply a man she has fallen in love with. But now, in daylight, she once again sees him as the order’s Grandmaster and Woedica’s high priest, and she cannot…

“Woedica is not jealous,” Thaos remarks. A corner of his lips curves up in a small smile.

He walks over to the bed and sits on the mattress right next to her. For a moment he simply watches her, vaguely amused, and then sparks kindle in his eyes.

“And you are a welcome guest here,” he adds in a lower voice, leans in and kisses her.

Eidis reaches up and hesitantly puts her arms around his neck, dips her fingers into his dark hair as she returns the kiss.

“It’s late.” Thaos pulls away, notices the disappointment in her gaze and strokes her cheek softly. “But I’ll be waiting for you in the evening, my little soulmistress,” he adds with a brief smile, and then, as if to put more emphasis on this invitation, kisses her again.

* * *

 

Eidis wakes, unsure what is going on, surprised to find herself in a room that is not her own, in a strange bed… It takes her a while to recognize that she is at an inn in Brackenbury, where they stopped for the night yesterday.

And then she recalls the dream: blurry images and confusing feelings, sensations she is not quite able to name because she has never… She sits on the bed, hiding her face in her hands, her cheeks hot with a blush.

Eidis is grateful that she remembers so little, barely more than only flashes... But now she is awake and can think clearly again, and even that much is enough to make her wish the earth would swallow her up.

She was guessing they had met before, in another life, that there had been something between them. Only she thought it had been friendship; that maybe she had been a Leaden Key acolyte, maybe she had been Thaos’ apprentice, but not… not his lover.

With sudden bitterness, Eidis thinks that Lady Webb was wrong. There are some kinds of price no knowledge is worth. And there are truths and secrets better left hidden forever, even if at first it seems they have no price at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers who keep going through my fics and leaving kudos everywhere - I see it and appreciate it a lot <3 but please comment? You obviously like something about my fics and I really need to know *what*? I would love to hear from you!


	3. Chapter 3

The Lady of Caed Nua is often haunted by dreams. That is not surprising; it is not hard to guess a Watcher would dream images from the past. She does, too. And most often, she dreams of Thaos. That is not surprising either – why should the dreams not remind her of someone who caused her Awakening, who is a link to her old life. After all, enemies appear in dreams just as often as friends.

But sometimes, there are other dreams. The scent of incense, the gleam of fire in adra beads and copper wires. Reflections of candlelight in dark eyes, deep as time itself. A robe thrown over the back of a chair. A mind, both strange and familiar, trying to look into her soul. In those dreams, she always trusts him. And when she wakes up, she feels she should have never done that.

Eidis tries to forget, but the dreams keep coming back, always blurry, as if seen through fog or smoked glass. Someone could say it is nothing unnatural, that if it is possible to respect or admire one’s enemy, it is also possible to desire them. But that is not how she thinks of him, and neither does she consider him her foe, not even an opponent – he probably does not think of her as such either, because he did not even really notice her. And even if he did, she is nothing more than a tiny grain of sand in the cogwheels of his grand, mysterious plans.

No, Eidis does not wish to fight; she only wants answers. Even though more and more often she wonders if she is thinking of the right questions, and that is an answer in itself. Echoes of that past life ripple in her soul like waves on water, wider and wider, and the dreams come back again and again: those dark, upsetting, terrifying; and those quiet, almost warm, soft like touch. Strange, but the latter frighten her much more.

She starts sleeping in the library, among dust and cobwebs, telling her companions that she does not want to wake anyone with her screams should one of the frequent nightmares plague her. All save for Invar and Edér accept that explanation, but even they finally relent when she says how embarrassing it is for her to be scared so much by mere nightmares. And it is all true… but there is more to it.

Even if her companions slept in the keep, the library is on a different level than the main hall. Therefore, only the books can hear that sometimes she wakes at night calling Thaos’ name.

* * *

 

With each hint they stumble upon, she recalls more. Faces and voices from the past. The sparks of devotion lighting up the eyes of the faithful. The metallic glimmer of silvery masks. A figure in dark robes, not much higher than other kith in the crowd, and yet seemingly towering over them all.

But after that brief meeting in the Sanitarium, when her soul faced his, other memories start coming back as well. A dark robe lying on the floor. Bed sheets that smell of incense. Kisses that taste of wine. Eyes, as endless as the night and as deep as time. Eyes which – she did not notice it back then – watch her all the time, even when her own eyes close.

A shuddering breath, a hand clutching at a strand of hair, eyelashes tickling her cheek when he finally – only for an instant – closes his eyes too. One moment when she thought it was real. Even now, even though she knows better, she could almost believe it was; could almost think that for a few heartbeats, she meant something to him.

That is nothing but an illusion, as are many things concerning Thaos. She still knows so very little about him… Oh, yes, she has read all of Lady Webb’s notes, but those contain a brief description of the Leaden Key’s activities and some of its Grandmaster’s powers, and that is not the knowledge she craves. She knows what he did – has been doing, and for whom. Now she needs to learn why.

Because maybe that would tell her what kind of man Thaos is. Yes, she can guess it, that is not difficult, having seen some of his deeds… But she would like – she _needs_ to be sure. To know. Because that is something she has not recalled yet.

Eidis only remembers that she loved him, in another life. That it was not just a brief affair; that her feelings – however naïve – were not just an infatuation. She remembers, and thus she understands that those confusing emotions which sometimes overwhelm her are the echoes of that love. That alone tells her how strong it was, how important. Real…

The first, the last, the only one. She remembers that, too.

* * *

 

When they leave Heritage Hill, Eidis prays for something – anything – that will help her forget what she has seen there; the orphaned girl, all the death and blood, all the souls trapped in the machine… To forget that she decided to sacrifice those souls to ensure others would be safe.

A few months, weeks – perhaps even days ago – she would have never thought she was capable of an act like that. She had had to fight and to kill, protecting her friends or in self-defence, and that had been dreadful enough. But is it one thing to destroy a body; it is another to disintegrate a soul, to extinguish its light forever… Not long ago, she would have never thought it possible, and now she knows all it took was raising the stakes high enough.

She only did that because there was no other way to ensure such horror and tragedy would never happen again. She only did that because she wanted to help. But even in her thoughts, this excuse sounds too weak to justify her actions.

Eidis wonders if back then, in another life, Thaos had already known everything she has recently discovered about herself. Had it not been why he had noticed her at all; had his favour not been a reward for something she had done or maybe had been about to do...

If yes, then maybe he had known her better than she had known herself. Because she remembers that she had never been as happy as in those days when she had been with him and believed it had been real.

* * *

 

She can see her reflection in the depths of Thaos’ dark eyes. He takes the goblet out of her palms and puts it on the table. Then he gets up, reaching for her hand, and gently pulls her with him.

When he touches her cheek, Eidis closes her eyes. She feels like a candle flame in the wind, trembling and burning.

Thaos brushes his thumb across her lips as he slowly leans in… When he kisses her, the whole world narrows down to the point where their lips meet. Eidis lets him embrace her, lets him gently tilt her head back and kiss her again, very differently now; as if he was thirsty and could drink spring water from her mouth. Her fingers tighten on the folds of his robe as she tries to steady herself, dizzy and out of breath.

Thaos pulls away a little and looks at her, and Eidis immediately casts her eyes down, even though she is aware how pointless it is when he can still see everything in her soul.

“Don’t be afraid,” he says softly, stroking her cheek; he might not be able to see that she is blushing, but he can surely feel how hot her skin is.

Eidis leans into his palm, at a loss for words. She is not afraid; why should she be? What freezes her in place is not fear but uncertainty; she wishes she knew what to do, but she has never even kissed, so how could she…

Thaos’ lips brush her ear. “I will teach you,” he promises in a whisper that trickles down her spine in a shiver.

He does; teaches her patiently, without hurry and with attention to detail, and Eidis melts like wax under the touch of his hands. In the dim light of a few candles, Thaos is warm shadows, smoke, and the heat of glowing embers. There is fire in his eyes, the same she can feel burning in her blood. His skin smells of adra incense – adra, the past and the future, all the time in the world.

The timelines shift and overlay and intertwine; a bright flash, the depth and gleam of adra. Eidis looks up into Thaos’ eyes and sees eternity. She clings to his shoulders and calls him by his name for the very first time.

* * *

 

Eidis wakes up. With a heavy sigh, she sits on the bed and hides her face in her hands, as if she could shut herself off from the dream this way. Up until now… until now, she has only seen shattered images, heard muffled whispers, felt echoes of strange sensations she could not describe… This dream was different, and now she remembers every detail.

She has never been in love. Has never… been with anyone. But she remembers. His lips. His hands. The warm weight of his body.

Her cheeks heat up with another blush, because it is very different to know of the past and to see it so clearly. Eidis shakes her head; she has never thought that for the first time, it would be… in another life. With someone she does not even know – had never really known? – even though his face haunts her whenever she closes her eyes.

Of course, she was curious, and sometimes she wondered, but usually there were a lot of more interesting things to do. And not many noticed a smiling but quiet girl in a simple robe, always hovering close to the faithful, ready to listen about their grievances and troubles and to heal or inspire their souls. She has rarely noticed those who did not need her help, either.

But now she cannot stop thinking of those dreams, cannot stop recalling everything. His kisses. His touch. How happy and safe she felt falling asleep in his arms.

* * *

 

She remembers what she felt before. No, it was not hate; how could she detest someone she does not know? But she was wary, apprehensive.

It is not difficult to guess that their next meeting will probably end with a fight. Eidis would like to avoid that, having always preferred diplomacy, even though she is aware the chances for a peaceful solution are very faint. How could she assume he would be more willing to talk in other circumstances, when he had no time to answer her questions in the Sanitarium? Or maybe he simply did not want to give her answers, maybe he was not interested in what she wanted to say.

She keeps searching, looking for signs and traces – there is no other way; her conscience would never let her give up so she has to go on – and yet she keeps hoping they will never meet again. Because, against all reason and her own better judgement, she still feels what she does in those dreams.

Eidis know she should learn to think of him as her enemy – it is clear that their paths are conflicting, and sooner or later, she will have to confront him again. But no matter how hard she tries, she cannot bring herself to do that. In the memories, she loved him – in another life, years, maybe ages ago – and even though a part of her does not want to believe that, deep in her soul she knows it was true.

She thought she would be able to forget, as often happens with dreams. But that love from the past still fills her heart, and Eidis knows that when there comes a time for her to decide, no choice will be good.


End file.
